


Corposant

by sarrel



Category: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Illithids, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarrel/pseuds/sarrel
Summary: An illithid and a rejected experiment run around the underdark trying to find somewhere to exist.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing she remembered was darkness. The air was motionless and suffocating. There were two things in the room with her, something big, it's heart beating slow in massive waves of energy, and something more her size, it's heart a regular, steady rhythm. She tried to bring her arms up to feel around more but they were tied in front of her.

Her eyes began to adjust and she saw that the thing in front of her, the thing that was more like her, was nothing like her at all. It's face was twisting and curling and it reached towards her and she could feel it thinking. She couldn't feel what it was thinking just that it was thinking until it reached out and tried to tell her to hold still and she was frozen. She didn't know what to do so she froze.

It turned away to grab something and she pulled her arms up together and over it's head and pulled it down on top of her and it was screaming into the air and into her brain and it's heart beat so fast that it was a blur of pulsing energy and her hands were burning and suddenly the bindings fell away and her hands were free and she grabbed it and put so much energy into it that it's

heart

just

stopped.

* * *

The next thing she remembered was cutting cutting sawing through her ribcage and there was nothing she could do about it and

it wasn't the first time she'd been cut apart

the last time was in the air and the light and the desert and

She started walking because after everything that was all she had and they couldn't have that too. She would always have walking because she would keep walking, even when it hurt. A box is a box but this one was big enough to walk in. it was hard at first but the hole in her chest healed up and the thread fell out and she kept walking.

It was 253 steps to from the bars to the back. it was 52 steps from one corner to the other. It was 235 steps from the back to the front. It was 69 steps along the bars. If she did it again it would be a little different, but not by much.

The things came and went. she could reach through the bars and throw lightning at them but there were a set of metal columns that would draw it into the floor or ceiling. They never came closer. They sent her trays with a bit of mush that wasn't food but she sometimes ate anyway because there wasn't anything else.

She didn't know how long she was there. She counted how many times she slept. It was a lot. She suspected that if she had any way to see how long a day was that she would find she slept several times every day. There was no indication of the passage of time. So far, she had slept 38 times.

There were several different things and several different other things that followed them around. At first they all looked more or less the same, but there were two in particular that made an impression.

One of them was a deep green and almost twice as tall as her. It wore long robes that made it look like it floated more than walked. It had four tentacles that fell from where it's mouth should be to it's waist and two on either side that fell almost to the floor. When it entered the room she felt a squealing sound inside her head that made it hard to see, hear, or even stand. It was followed by something small that she never got a good look at but that would sometimes come inside the bars. She was never strong enough to fight it off. Not with the sound inside her head. She heard questions, faint and distant,"Where did you come from? Why are you here?" She didn't know the answer to any of them and that just made everything worse. When it left she'd dream about being cut apart.

The other had a blueish tint and had large wide-set eyes. It also had the six face tentacles, but the two long ones on the side only fell to it's knees. It wore shorter robes than the other, and a sturdy looking pair of shoes. It usually had a larger thing with it that looked like it had been stitched together. Sometimes it's stitched-together servant came alone, and either it or the two of them almost always came with not-food. When it came it would sit in the room writing for a while, then offer to take the tray and leave. She got the impression it was feeling her out. She wasn't sure what it was feeling her out for, but if it's friend was anything to go by, it wasn't good.

* * *

One day the second thing came in while the first was... visiting. The sound in her head had been pitched so high and loud she thought her head was going to explode. Or maybe it was because the thing's servant was kicking her. The noise died back and she was just laying there stuck to the ceiling... No it was the floor. Definitely the floor. She sat up, and it was just there, alone, on the other side of the bars staring at her.

_I would like to get closer and look at you._

"Fuck off."

 _If you're damaged I may be able to fix it_.

She ignored it.

_I want to help._

Her head was swimming. It still felt like she was being kicked. Or maybe that was her heartbeat.

It still loomed. Just beyond the columns.

_I just need to know you won't try to hurt me._

She would.

She would, she would, she would. She would reach into it's chest and STOP it.

_Why don't you eat?_

what

_There's a full tray of food out here. I pushed it over this morning but you just sent it back. You usually do this._

That wasn't food.

_It is, in fact, a nutritionally complete combination of meat proteins, complex sugars, plant fiber, and a variety of essential minerals designed for your species and portioned for your size._

It was disgusting is what it was.

_You need to eat to live._

Didn't matter. Still disgusting.

_I would still like to check on you._

"Fuck. Off."

It did.

So that's how they wanted to play it. Fuckers.

* * *

It was an interesting subject. It was a bit of a mystery to figure out, and a bit of a challenge to manage. They liked it ever since they'd read about it. It was just so incredibly odd. Most things, sorcerers, fae, _anything_ , needed to talk to use magic. This thing _was_ magic. This thing just moved it's hands, no words of power at all, and electricity flowed out of it.

They were a behavioral expert, not a magical one, and they had never had access to a subject that could do magic. Not for long anyway. They always got snapped up. But this one was undesirable because,

well.

this one had a body count.

During it's initial processing it had killed the illithid present, it's thrall, the illithid that came to assist it, and two additional thralls sent to subdue it. The subsequent investigation and vivisection had fallen to produce a positive species identification or a sufficient explanation for it's psychic resiliency.

If they hadn't by sheer chance had an appropriate containment cell they would've had to destroy it without ever finding out where it had come from, what it was, or why it was there.

The more paranoid theories involved ancient prophecies and secret powers invested in the destruction of illithid society. This seemed unlikely to them, because they'd been listening; because they _liked_ listening to it.

It was too disorganized and impulsive for any of those ridiculous theories, but it was still clever and inquisitive. Sometimes they just sat and watched through it's eyes as it looked at everything and felt as it touched everything. They felt it's other senses too, it could feel the air currents in the whole room and sense their own heartbeat from across the room. Sometimes it would make noises that sounded nonsensical to them, but if they listened through it's ears the sounds were structured, and methodical, and oddly... good. It made those sounds because they calmed it.

And sometimes they just listened to it's thoughts. Most of the time it didn't think about anything but then thoughts would dart across it's mind suddenly and disappear just as quickly. It made connections between things they never would have but that were clever and interesting.

There was only one problem. It didn't belong to them. They were in charge of feeding it and making sure it was healthy, so that Maziah could pull all relevant information out of it. _The more you shake it's brain, the more information falls out._ Xotchtil did respect Maziah's expertise. The trouble was that their subjects were more or less useless by the time they were done. The psyche was often so shredded the taste wasn't even palatable anymore.

Maziah preferred negative resonance stones for obvious reasons. They always left one with their subjects at every visit. Xotchtil never left them out if they could help it. The emanations had a tendency to bleed into nearby areas and agitate other subjects...

...and they left this subject's mind duller.

* * *

One day she decided to climb the bars all the way to the ceiling. She could feel the air swirling and settling in the cavern, fed by various tiny cracks in the walls and ceiling, just none big enough to fit through. It moved more up higher and she wanted to get closer, feel it with her skin.

It took five tries to and three sleeps to make it. The fourth time she made it a little over halfway. The fifth time she made it a little over halfway again and was thinking about turning back but she'd away made it so far and she just wanted to make it the whole way she just wanted-

She did make it. She hooked her legs tightly around the bars and held on with one hand as she stretched out the other and felt the smallest of breezes.

Then her left knee gave out, and gravity wrenched it free at entirely the wrong angle. Without support her right leg couldn't hold tightly enough to keep her upright and the momentum from the left leg falling pulled her backwards and she tumbled inside down away from the bars. She flailed wildly with her arm but only succeeded in getting it caught between two bars when she hit a crosspiece and felt a sickening pop and then a burn as the metal took all the skin off the underside of her forearm.

It took so long to fall. She was faintly aware of dull pain in her extremities under the glorious sensation of air rushing against her skin. She didn't even notice when she hit the floor.

* * *

They were at the other end of the facility when they felt it. It was a faint sensation of air rushing past skin like running or riding an animal or

falling

* * *

stupid stupid STUPID thing. What was it doing? What was it trying to accomplish? Did it want to

ah


	2. Chapter 2

By the time they burst through the door it was lying motionless on the floor. It's psychic imprint was just empty noise like rushing water. They walked up to the first set of columns and tried to see if it was breathing. They couldn't tell.

They wanted to get closer. It was alive but they didn't know how badly it was hurt. On the other hand, if it woke up, well. It had a body count.

The noise in it's head peaked and crested, and dropped it back into consciousness. It's head was silent again, until the pain faded into it's entire body. Breathing hurt it. It groaned.

_I might be able to help but I need to look at you._

It ignored them.

_I need to know you won't hurt me._

It didn't trust them. It thought, no it knew, viscerally, that they would hurt it and was determined to hit first. Thank you, Maziah.

They tried to feel what it felt, see if they could discern where it was hurt and how badly and they realized something.

They took a chance and stepped past the metal columns. They felt a jolt inside it's mind, trying to force it's legs under it but it's knee screamed in pain. It tried moving it's arms but...

They kneeled down beside it and looked it over. It's wrist was skinned through to the tendon, the shoulder was out of the socket, the other wrist had an extra bend where there wasn't one before, it's head and knee were swelling and fresh red bruises were blooming everywhere.

_Why did you do this?_

A thought almost passed it's mind but it aborted it, staying carefully blank.

They let out a rattling sigh.

* * *

What the hell. No. She was not going to drink that. Smelling it turned her stomach; it wasn't going into her mouth. What the fuck-

_How do you not know what this is?_

What?

It had called it's friends and their servants had successfully gotten her onto a stretcher, down the hall, and into a room with long metal tables. They'd all left after that, leaving it alone to gather supplies and offer something to drink that she was pretty sure was poison.

_On the surface it's a popular-. Nevermind. Just choke it down. I'll pour into the back of your mouth; just swallow._

What the fuck-

_I am trying to be nice._

No!!!

It stared at her a long moment before quickly leaning back and throwing the liquid into... what was probably it's mouth... Before doubling over onto the table next to her and slamming it's fist down on it a few times. It laid there shaking for a few moments before tentatively standing back up. It kept itself propped up against the table.

See? Poison.

_You're already trying to kill yourself why do you care?_

They stared at each other for a long moment.

She wasn't trying to die. Probably. Now that she thought about it she didn't particularly care.

_So why do you care if it's poison?_

Maybe it was slow painful poison. Their kind liked slow, painful things.

_I have never hurt you._

Yet.

_FINE. Fine. You are correct. This will hurt. Significantly.  
_

It leaned over and grabbed her arm with both hands and started yanking on it. She screamed. She couldn't help but scream. And it just kept going and going and doing whatever the fuck it was doing and her other arm didn't work and she tried kicking with the one leg that did but her hip locked and that hurt too and it did not stop and she just wanted to kill it but she couldn't even move her other arm

 _That's exactly why I did this one first_.

It coughed a little and rested for a moment. Her arm hurt like it had broken it all over again.

_Again, do you want some of this? It will dull the pain._

Fuck. Fuck it. Fine.

_Tip your chin up. Move your tongue. You don't want to taste it. I'm going to pour a little and you need to swallow right away. Ready?_

It burned all the way down to her stomach.

It pulled back and leaned on one arm again.

What now?

 _We wait for it to absorb into_ \- it turned away suddenly and convulsed. She heard the contents of it's stomach hit the ground.

Fucking lying-

 _My stomach and brain are different from yours_.

Bullshit.

_Wait, just wait._

For what?

Iit turned and puked again, then dropped to it's knees holding on to the table with it's hands. _It will dull the pain but it needs time_. _It won't be too long. You shouldn't vomit laying back like that anyway. You'll breathe it back in._

She looked down at her arm. It was wrapped in cloth. There was something hard wrapped in with it, holding her arm out straight. It still hurt. What the hell?

 _It would heal anyway, I just did my best to make sure it will heal similar to how to was before. Don't mess with it._ It pulled itself up on the table next to her and laid back with one arm over it's face.

Why was it doing this?

_It's my function. Fortunately I've done that many times before. It's a common injury._

What? What was it's function? Keeping her alive so they could keep torturing her?

_Something like that._

She tentatively tried to pull up a little lightning but the shock ran right up her broken arm and made her cry out a little. Her other arm was still useless.

_I told you not to mess with it._

Fuck you.

 _Or don't listen to me. I suppose I can't stop you._ It didn't say anything else for at least a few minutes, but finally it asked _are you hungry?_

What

 _You're always a little hungry aren't you? You don't eat well._ It pulled itself up and swung it's legs around. _I'll be right back._ It paused, and somehow managing to telepathically impart sarcasm, added, _Don't go anywhere._

It came back about a minute later with a small cloth sack. It pulled out some small chunks of... something... out and offered them to her.

And this was...?

_Dried cave fish._

It pushed some towards her mouth and she reluctantly took a bite. It was mostly salty and chewy, but also a little bit savory. It was, technically speaking real food though. It gave her some more.

_It's the protein in the processed food you've been offered._

She got through maybe half the small bag before it set the bag aside. _That's the best I've ever seen you eat._ _How does your arm feel?_

It still hurt, but was oddly more distant.

_Good. We'll do the other arm then._

She wasn't really ready, but she wasn't going to be, and she did want her arm back.

It leaned on her collarbone and started moving her arm in circles. It hurt, but at the same time it hurt far away.

* * *

She woke up on the floor of a different box. Her left arm still hurt, but it was usable. She tried to draw up some lightning again but it just jolted through the right one painfully without forming into anything useful.

This box was small. Far too small. The other one had been too small too, the empty weight of rock bearing down a comparatively tiny pocket of air. This one was a fraction of the size. It was big enough to walk in, if you counted two or three steps as walking. It had bars too, but only one set.

It looked out into a long hall of cells on either side. There was a grating, dragging sound approaching around the far right corner. The stitched together mess appeared finally, and slowly dragged it's way past. It paused as it went by, for just a moment, looked her up and down with an uncharacteristic sharpness.

It must have told it's master, because a few minutes later, the latter appeared. It looked her over as well.

 _You should_ _rest the knee longer_

* * *

It suddenly jumped forward and threw a hand out between the bars to grab at them. Something about it's magic had been disrupted though, and the pain almost blacked out it's vision. They grabbed it by the front of it's shirt before it could topple backwards and slid down with it into a pile on the floor. It's eyes half opened and it stared back at them hatefully with it's cheek pressed into one of the bars.

The bizarre thing was that it almost wasn't even psychically resilient; it was just psychically intangible. Grasping at it's thoughts was like grasping at air. They could tell what it was thinking easily enough it was just impossible to insert a command or dig for information. The thoughts were fast too. There was almost never any time between a thought and an action.

Just as impulsively, it slapped it's good hand against their shoulder. The malice was there, but it was just so physically weak. They couldn't help but laugh. They knew they shouldn't; this specimen was genuinely dangerous. It was just so full of deep animosity, and yet completely incapable of doing anything about it.

* * *

It was laughing. At first she wasn't sure what that sound was, but it was definitely laughing. She was going to kill it. She didn't know how yet, but she would figure it out.


	3. Chapter 3

It didn't take long for the other one to come back. She "heard" the piercing squeal before it even rounded the corner. Somehow the even smaller cell managed to make everything worse. At least in the other one she could try to run for the back. Not that it had ever mattered.

The passage of time was oddly quick. When it stopped and the room swam back into view she was laying against the bars in the front of the cell. There were figures standing on the other side, just within reach. She could finally reach out and touch them but the energy wouldn't flow anymore. Not without hurting and maybe not at all.

* * *

It was obviously too early. Anyone in their right mind knew that. The knee wasn't healed yet, let alone the arm. When they realized Maziah had returned for it they tried to put a stop to it but they wouldn't hear differently.

Their thrall stepped out of the cell and moved between them. It was a surface fae about the same height as Xotchtil, and uncomfortably close. It had a long metal rod it set casually over it's shoulder. Xotchtil backed away a step.

They tried talking sense into Maziah, _We both know you haven't gotten anything in months, and you probably won't at all._

They took it as an insult, _This creature is my responsibility. I will do whatever I want with it._

Maziah continued speaking, but Xotchtil had stopped listening. Their thrall's weapon had numerous chips and slight bends. It looked like a discarded chunk of metal, and they hadn't understood it to have any kind of magical significance. Now, though, it was faintly glowing at the tip with a small blue aura. _I think we should-_

_YOU DON'T THINK, that's the entire-_

Their thrall jolted suddenly, it's whole body arching painfully as a bolt of lightning exited it and grounded itself into the bars of the cell next to it. It collapsed to the ground and opened it's mouth in a silent scream.

Xotchtil jumped back and Maziah did the same. It wouldn't have mattered; the specimen wouldn't be doing it again. It was laying on the floor completely limp, one arm extended out into the hall. They could feel the discordant, rattling ache of the other arm, the broken one, under the empty noise of it's lost consciousness.

Maziah's thrall gasped for breath again. Xotchtil was amazed it was still alive. It was lucky the specimen's arm and magic were broken.

 _You need to fix this_ said Maziah

_What_

_Isn't that what you're good for? You fix this kind of thing._

_Fix what? Your error?_

_Your error. You moved it out of containment._

They managed to push down an entire list of objections and defense of their expert judgement in favor of a better idea. _I want payment._

_What kind of payment?_

_I want this specimen. You're right that it's been your responsibility. Make it mine._

_What do you want with it?_

_Why do you care?_

There was a long pause.

Maziah threw their hands up in disgust, _Agreed_.

* * *

They would have to be careful not to let it touch them when they returned, but the specimen was safe enough where it was. They took the thrall back to the laboratory.

It's injuries were remarkably mild, which Xotchtil attributed to the specimen being weakened. Mostly there were just burns branching out in fractals where the electricity had passed through. The left calf was burned where the electricity went in, the right hip was burned where it went out, and it's hands were burned where it had been holding it's improvised weapon.

They weren't sure if anything else was wrong with it, and they told Maziah as much, but it had a heartbeat, and all of it's limbs seemed to work well enough. Considering past victims, these were blessings.

They applied salve and bandages to the burns, and recommended Maziah be careful with it for a few weeks.

* * *

The specimen was sitting up when Xotchtil got back to it. It's head and arm were aching, poorly channeled magic still resonating.

_You need to stop doing this._

"You need to leave me alone."

_You're only hurting yourself._

"We've already had this talk."

 _Precisely_.

It's thoughts peaked with irritation,"Don't you have someone else to bother?"

_Yes, actually. But I keep having to have this conversation instead._

* * *

They tried resonance stones. Maziah never would've allowed a calming one when it was their responsibility. It would've interfered with the cumulative effect of the interrogations. Xotchtil had abided by this rule at the time. No reason to give them another excuse for why they had failed to obtain any information.

It turned out it didn't matter anyway. They left the calming stone in the customary position near the cell while it was sleeping. They generally worked best if the subject didn't notice the initiation of effect. Later that day they felt a strong sense of irritation all the way from the other side of the facility, and returned to find the stone had been thrown all the way to the end of the hall. Placing it out of reach did nothing but prolong the irritation.

They knew how to handle obstinance. It was a matter of pitting your own unrelenting will against the will of a subject. Rewards and consequences had to be carried out with a implacable consistency.

This was not obstinance. This was chaos, like a swirling storm.

It kept trying to generate lightning, no matter how much it hurt. If it failed it would pace, scream, and occasionally punch the wall. It usually failed. Then it would get still and quiet for a long time, it's head filled with static. It didn't make the noises it used to anymore, the ones that sounded different when they listened with its ears. Screaming sounded the same regardless.

So far the splint had held through any abuse but the arm would hurt afterwards. They dreaded having to remove the specimen from it's cell to re-wrap it. How would they prevent it from attacking them while it worked? Pain wasn't enough to stop it. The limb just not working properly wasn't even enough to stop it. It was also likely they wouldn't even see an attack coming.

The last time they worked on it was a stroke of luck. Both arms had been disabled. At this point the dislocation was tender but for the most part healed. That was the arm it had used to almost kill Maziah's thrall.

They were going to have to wait and see if it was even necessary. They didn't like that.

* * *

She noticed it had started hanging around, but in a different way than before. There wasn't anywhere good to sit in the narrow hall so it would sit with it's back against the cell opposite. She wasn't used to seeing one of them in such an undignified position.

It mostly read. Before it would sit quietly, sometimes reading or writing, but often doing neither. She had gotten the impression it was listening to her. Now it was mostly reading, but it was also around a lot more. It mostly kept it's legs tucked up under it or to it's chest: well out of reach. If it felt the need to stretch them it either got up or laid out straight along the opposite side of the hall.

"What are you reading?" she finally asked one day.

It looked up at her and blinked, staring for a moment before saying anything.

_A history of surface dweller's views on and relationships with dragons._

It continued to stare. Their alien faces could be difficult to interpret but she was fairly certain she was looking at very slight surprise. Something about the way the tentacles froze in the slightest of a curl.

"Ok. Um. You find dragons interesting?"

_Not in particular. There's just many books on the topic in the library here._

"Oh." There was a long empty silence. "So what are the surface dweller's views on dragons?"

_Limited._

She waited for it to elaborate. It didn't. It did watch her watching it for a long moment.

_Can you read?_

"Um. I guess?"

It closed the book and pushed it across the floor to her, careful to never come within reach. _Can you read this?_

She opened it to a random page near the beginning. It was geographic information on where different types of dragons could be found.

"Yeah, actually. Why?"

_You can keep it if you like. I have others as well, and on other topics._

* * *

It went three days without hurting itself, excepting a few incidences of trying to draw up lightning.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this nonsense rattling around in my head for years now. I'm at a both low and high point in my life right now, so I'm just going to vomit this up everywhere and hope for the best. If you wanna help me edit it, I'm down.
> 
> Also bear in mind that my experience with the forgotten realms is reading the legend of drizzt books 10 years ago, briefly playing some related video games, and desperately trying and failing for years to get someone to play D&D with me. So some or... all... of this is gonna deviate from FR canon. Also I fucking hate the fact that Salvatore's idea of a matriarchal society is literally straight out of a femdom porn. So I'm going to intentionally deviate on that point.


End file.
